Epilogue: A Dish Served Cold
by ehee
Summary: More of the As Sookie Turns saga. Will Bill finally get his due? The drama continues... A one-shot in two parts.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N -- _Just when you thought it was all over..._**

This is like the story that just won't die! (pun intended) I kept thinking I needed closure, and if _I _needed closure I thought maybe someone else might, too, so here it is. A couple months ago I just cranked out a little song-inspired one-shot, and now this bitch has escalated to my own personal version of War and Peace. Thanks for taking this journey with me. Heartfelt thanks for all the reviews and PMs -- I try to answer them all, but some do slip through the cracks. But I do read and appreciate each and every one.

I'm posting this sans beta, as I just finished it and wanted to post it before I leave on vacation tomorrow. Shout out to ebonyeyez1 -- my critic, my advisor, my cheerleader. She knows I'm batshit crazy but somehow manages to put up with me anyway!

Disclaimer: Ms. Harris lays claim to the characters in this story, but I can say with utmost certainty she wouldn't claim the bizarre crap I lead them through!

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Victor Madden sat in the leather chair behind the desk in Eric's office at Fangtasia. Clancy and Felicia had summoned him when they had been unable to contact Eric or Pam after they had failed to show up at the bar for the third night in a row. He had covered the distance between New Orleans and Shreveport, some 350 miles, in just over three hours.

The visit to Eric's house had been a horrendous nightmare...

_Victor and Clancy arrived to find the garage door wide open, with Pam's Lexus parked along side Sookie's BMW and Eric's Corvette. Both vampires turned to look each other, faces somber and eyes filled with dread. _This was not a good sign.

_Upon entering the garage they encountered a pile of ashes in front of Eric's car, the telltale wooden stake laying guilty in its midst. Noticing a glint of metal in the powdery remains, Clancy bent down and retrieved a gold locket. After dusting it off, his face turned ten shades whiter than un-dead and there was a catch in his throat as he whispered to Victor, "This is Pam's. Eric and Sookie brought it to her from their trip to France a couple of years ago."_

_Faces grim, Victor and Clancy regarded each other with wary__eyes. Inspecting the house was next; if anyone had asked, both vampires would have chosen to re-grow severed limbs rather than face the grisly task at hand. _

_They entered the kitchen and immediately noticed the gaping hole in the far wall and the bits of drywall scattered all over the floor. Clancy raised a questioning eyebrow at Victor, who returned his look with a frown. Something had most definitely gone on here._

"_Northman? Sookie?" Victor called out as they started through the kitchen. Both vampires listened carefully for any sort of sound coming from the rest of the house, but their keen hearing picked up nothing. _

_Their senses now on overdrive, the vampires continued their search of the house, checking the living room, Eric's office, and the guest rooms on the first floor, calling out for Eric and Sookie as they searched, but...nothing. When they finally made their way to the den at the back of the house, the scene they encountered stopped them in their tracks. _

_Three piles of ash, one large one and two smaller ones, lay in the middle of the floor. The sword on the floor prompted Victor to scan the display on the far wall – yes, there was one missing. He glanced at Clancy, who was scowling as he studied the piles of ash. "This looks to be two vampires, one of them cut in two by the sword," he observed._

"_What do you think happened?" Clancy whispered._

_Victor squatted down next to the larger pile of ashes and studied it carefully. A gnarled piece of wood was in the center of the pile. Closer to the edge of the pile was a gold Thor's hammer on a chain. He recognized it as Eric's pendant and his eyes closed in disgust. He had known Eric for almost two hundred years. _How in the hell had someone been able to get close enough to Eric to stake him? _It would be next to, if not completely, impossible. Eric was too old, too cautious, too powerful. To think that someone could get the drop on him, especially in his own home, was ludicrous. _

"_I cannot be sure what went on here," Victor finally answered Clancy. "But I can tell you for sure this is Eric. I recognize his pendant. He told me once he's had it for almost three hundred years." He paused for a moment before continuing. Way too many questions were surfacing, questions that Victor wasn't able to answer, and that made him very uneasy. _

"_I don't know how anyone could get close enough to Eric to stake him in his own home. It just doesn't make sense. And the other ashes...it appears this vampire was rendered in two by the sword. But who is it, and did they finally die before or after Eric? And where does Pam fit into the picture?" Victor's brain was buzzing as the list of unanswered questions kept growing. He knew they needed to figure out who the third vampire was if they were going to even come close to solving this mystery. _

_Clancy knelt down beside Victor, joining him in the search for any clue that might help them figure out what had happened. As their eyes scanned the powdery remains, Victor picked up on a twinkling from the far side of the pile. He reached across and sifted through the ash carefully, retrieving a woman's ring. Consternation clouded his face as he attempted to fit this piece into the puzzle. _

"_Let me see that," Clancy said, reaching for the ring. As he blew the ashes off, his eyes went wide, then immediately narrowed to dark slits. "This is Sookie's engagement ring," he said softly, as if talking to himself. He looked up to see Victor frowning at him. _

"_I remember when Eric gave this to her," Clancy explained. "She was so excited...she flaunted it around the bar, showing it to anyone who would stand still to look. I remember thinking it was the biggest fucking diamond I had ever seen." His shoulders slumped a little as he took another close look at the ring. "But what I don't understand is why it would be here, by this pile of ashes..." his growing confusion causing his voice to trail off._

"_Yes, who_ was _this pile of ashes?" Victor wondered aloud. "And where is Sookie?"_

*********************************

The long list of unanswered questions continued to plague Victor after he and Clancy left Eric's house and returned to Fangtasia. Of one thing he was certain: Eric and Pam were both finally dead. The who and the how were still a mystery, as were the ashy remains of the third vampire.

'_What a fucking mess,'_ Victor thought to himself as he rested his elbows on Eric's desk and put his head in his hands. Eric Northman, Sheriff of Area 5, finally dead. How in the hell was he going to break the news to Felipe? Area 5 was the most profitable area of Louisiana. In spite of the billions of dollars spent on restoration and reconstruction, post-Katrina New Orleans just wasn't what it used to be. What Area 1 lacked in revenue earnings for the de Castro regime, Area 5 more than made up for. Although they had their fair share of differences, Victor knew Eric would be sorely missed.

His head still in his hands, Victor looked down at the top of Eric's desk and noticed the invoices stacked neatly in the corner of the desk blotter. A hard scowl painted his face as he thought about the daunting task of overseeing the finalization of Eric's affairs. As the king's second, he knew Felipe would assign this duty to him. He would need to consult with Eric's attorneys to determine the final disposition of Eric's property. Fangtasia was a huge money-maker, as were Eric's numerous other business ventures, and their yearly tribute added significantly to the kingdom's coffers.

Victor picked up the stack of invoices and shuffled through them: a $1200 utility bill from Southwestern Electric: a $250 invoice from Aramark for bar rags, mop heads, and miscellaneous other linens; a receipt for $37,000 from Pelican Distributing, the local supplier of consumable blood products.

Victor's brows shot up as he took a second look at the invoice for the blood. From previous audits of Fangtasia's accounts, he knew the monthly bill for TrueBlood should be nowhere close to this amount. As he scanned the detailed list of items, he noticed a charge for a dozen cases of Royalty, plus a $1,000 surcharge for expedited delivery.

"What in the hell did Eric need with a dozen cases of Royalty?" he wondered aloud. He wouldn't...unless he was planning on hosting a party. A party with lots of vampire dignitaries. That couldn't be possible, or Victor would have known about it already.

"Damn," Victor muttered out loud. He was growing more agitated by the minute at this mystery, and even more agitated with himself that he couldn't piece the puzzle together. He buzzed the intercom at Eric's desk and Felicia answered from behind the bar. "Yes, Mr. Madden?"

"Felicia, I need to see you and Clancy at once," Victor barked at her.

Almost instantly, Felicia and Clancy were standing in front of Eric's desk. Victor looked up at them and asked, "Do you have any idea why Eric would order a dozen cases of Royalty? Even if he were planning a party, a dozen cases would seem extreme."

Clancy's face was blank, but Felicia looked uneasy as she spoke up. She had never trusted Victor, and the fact that he was investigating Eric and Pam's final deaths and overseeing their affairs galled her to no end. "Pam ordered the Royalty almost a week ago and had it delivered to Eric's house. That's all I know," she finished quietly.

'_Great, another clueless clue,'_ Victor thought to himself. Were he human, he was sure he would have a migraine right now. "That will be all," he dismissed Clancy and Felicia with a wave of his hand.

Victor leaned back in the leather chair and propped his feet on Eric's desk. His peripheral vision took in the computer setting to the side of the desk. He noticed the screen saver moving randomly around the screen and realized the computer's power was still turned on. He wiggled the mouse and the screen saver disappeared, revealing the desktop. Noticing Internet Explorer was minimized on the taskbar, Victor clicked to open the program and was completely taken aback by what he saw.

A Yahoo e-mail account appeared on the screen in front of him and Victor's eyes crinkled with amusement when he saw the name – _bloodsuckingbitch. _'_Must be Pam's,'_ he chuckled to himself. He read further and discovered the last e-mail, dated six nights before, was from Eric.

Victor's curiosity was beyond piqued as he read Eric's e-mail to Pam:

_**WHY AREN'T YOU ANSWERING YOUR FUCKING PHONE?!**_ _**There will be serious repercussions for you forcing me to resort to e-mail, Pamela. Call me as soon as you get this. I need for you to order twelve cases of Royalty at once and have them shipped overnight delivery. Not going into details here, other than to tell you Sookie finally said yes. CALL ME IMMEDIATELY! E.**_

Victor was once again puzzled by the fact that Pam had left her e-mail account open for three days before her final departure from Fangtasia. Careless lack of attention to detail was not her style. However, her security faux pas did shed some faint light on the happenings of three nights past.

_Sookie finally said yes._ Victor knew the "yes" wasn't to an offer of marriage. The entire vampire population from New York to L.A. knew of the celebrated engagement of the infamous Viking Sheriff from Louisiana and the small-town telepath of Rhodes fame. No, it was something different...

Victor's eyes flew wide as the realization struck him. "Said yes," plus a dozen cases of Royalty...he turned her_. Bloody christ, he turned her._

Victor paused for a moment to let this thought sink in. So Sookie must have been the third vampire. One piece of the puzzle was finally put into place. Now the big questions were who did it, and why.

*********************************************

The next evening, Victor was back in Eric's office with Eric's attorney, Michael Jamison. Jamison had been Eric's attorney for more than fifteen years, and Victor felt him to be competent (for a human) and on top of what needed to be done to close Eric's estate. Victor knew Jamison from previous meetings with Eric, and he had contacted the counselor as soon as he found Eric's remains. Vampires had learned long ago that the expeditious settling of unsavory Supe affairs often prevented unsolicited and unnecessary intervention by too-curious humans.

"Mr. Northman instructed me to give this packet to you, Mr. Madden, in the event of his...ah...final demise," Jamison said as he handed a big manila envelope across the desk to Victor. "I have no idea what the envelope contains. Mr. Northman chose not share that information with me."

Victor regarded the envelope with veiled curiosity and then set it aside as if it were of no consequence. He would look at it later, once the human was gone.

Jamison stood up and turned toward the door. "Miss Stackhouse was named the primary beneficiary of Mr. Northman's estate. Since she is now deceased, the bulk of the holdings, aside from that designated to a few minor recipients, will be transferred to de Castro's kingdom. If that is all, Mr. Madden, I will contact you once the final disposition of Mr. Northman's properties has been made."

"Very well then," Victor nodded his dismissal to Jamison.

Alone again, Victor opened the manila envelope. Inside were three smaller envelopes, the name of the intended recipient for each envelope was scribed in Eric's bold handwriting: one for Pamela Ravenscroft, one for Sam Merlotte, and one for Victor Madden.

Victor studied the envelope marked for Pam. Eric had sealed it, securing the contents from prying eyes. Victor grabbed the corner as if to tear it open, but stopped before ripping the paper. _'I may be ruthless, even shifty at times, but I do have character,'_ Victor thought to himself as he reached underneath the credenza and fed the envelope into the paper shredder sitting on the floor. Eric's final thoughts to Pam would die with him.

Victor opened the envelope with his own name on the outside. He removed the single piece of paper and read Eric's message.

_Victor, _

_If this letter finds its way to you, then Pam and I are finally dead.  
__Michael Jamison, my attorney, has instructions for the disposition of  
__my holdings. He has been instructed to contact you once finalizations  
__have been made._

_The bulk of my estate goes to Sookie. Even though she is human and we  
__were unable to be legally married, I expect her to receive the respect and  
deference due her as my bonded . After all, she is still under the protection  
of the de Castro regime._

_E. Northman_

Victor smiled to himself. Eric had the final word, even in death.

The third envelope, addressed to Sam Merlotte, lay unopened on the desk. Victor sighed at the thought of making the trip to Bon Temps to deliver the letter. Victor's vampire snobbishness afforded the shifter no more regard than he would receive from any other vampire, but Sam had been important to Sookie, and Sookie had been everything to Eric. As the unofficial administrator of Eric's vampire affairs, Victor knew he had no choice in the matter.

_Bon Temps_. Sookie's home town. The first time Victor met Sookie, he recalled, was at her house in Bon Temps, on the night of Felipe's takeover of Louisiana and Arkansas. Northman and Compton had been there with her, as had the Tiger's crazy sister. And Sookie's friend...what was her name...Amelia something-or-other...the witch. _Witch._

Victor's brain started buzzing. If Sookie's friend was a witch, maybe she could help with some type of spell to help determine the cause of the vampires' deaths. He had heard of such proceedings – _ectoplasmic reconstructions_, they were called. He had never seen one, but he understood them to be a useful tool in solving difficult crimes in the supe world.

Victor looked at his watch – 8:30 p.m. If he left now, he could make it to Bon Temps and visit the witch at a somewhat respectable time of evening. He would deliver the letter to the shifter afterwards.

Victor buzzed the intercom a second time. "Yes, Mr. Madden?" Felicia answered.

"I am leaving for Bon Temps," Victor informed her. "I shall return before closing. Call my cell should you need me."

"Yes, Mr. Madden," Felicia replied dutifully. Victor thought he heard a sigh of exasperation on the other end before the line went dead. _'If nothing else, Eric's minions were certainly loyal to him,'_ he thought to himself.

Heading out the back door, there was a spring in Victor's step as he moved toward his car. It wasn't often he had the chance to play the sleuth, and as he sped through the night toward Bon Temps, he thought the Sherlock Holmes hat was beginning to fit him just fine.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - After much interference from Real Life, I was finally able to finish the epilogue. This story has come a long way from the one-shot I originally planned. Anyway, I want to thank everyone for all the reviews, PMs, Author and Story Alerts, and Favorites. I know I wasn't able to respond to everyone, but I promise I did read each message! You are the best group of readers and I love you all! I want to send special thanks to my beta, Joynessdotcom, for all her hard work and helpful suggestions. I also want to thank ebonyeyez1 -- my idea gurl, my cheerleader, and a great online friend. I hope you have enjoyed reading this series as much as I have enjoyed bringing it to you. _Puss och Kram!_

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Gravel crunched under the tires of Victor Madden's dark sedan as he pulled off of Hummingbird Road and into the driveway of the Stackhouse homestead. He glanced at the blue-green display of the clock in the dash: 9:03 PM. He had made the trip from Shreveport to Bon Temps in just over half an hour. Well over Eric's record time of twenty-two minutes, but respectable nonetheless. He was relieved to see there were still lights on in the house; waking the Witch was an unpleasant necessity he was glad to have avoided.

Victor parked his car in front of the house and knocked on the front door. A couple of minutes later, the curtain covering the window in the door was pulled back and a face peered out at him. "Yes? Can I help you?" Amelia's voice was stern as she glared at the unwelcome intruder.

"Miss Broadway?" Victor began politely. He thought of dealing with humans as an unpleasant byproduct of the Revelation, but he badly needed this human's help and he wanted to make the process as painless as possible. "I am Victor Madden, King Felipe de Castro's Lieutenant here in Louisiana. We met here several years ago, before Miss Stackhouse moved to Shreveport." Victor paused to let Amelia digest his introduction, hoping she would remember him so he wouldn't have to elaborate on the grim details of their first meeting.

"I know who you are, Mr. Madden," Amelia replied tartly, still peering through the curtain. "What do you want?"

Victor drew in an unnecessary breath to bolster his patience with the obtuse witch. "I'm here regarding Miss Stackhouse, Miss Broadway. I mean you no harm. In fact, I come seeking your assistance."

Amelia didn't bother to disguise her irritation at Victor's unheralded visit. "You need my assistance," she replied baldly. "With what?"

"Miss Broadway, may I please enter?" Victor sighed. His nerves were taut and his patience was stretched wafer-thin. "I have news of Miss Stackhouse."

"News?" Amelia's ears perked. "What news? What about Sookie?" Her curiosity having gotten the best of her, Amelia threw caution to the wind and opened the door to Victor. "What about Sookie?" she repeated, her voice tinged with panic.

"If I may come in, I'll explain everything," Victor said almost too politely. _Damn Northman and his insane infatuation with a human._

Amelia opened the front door completely and stood to the side. "Come on in then," she sighed.

Victor stepped through the door and Amelia spun to face him, arms crossed across her chest. "Now, tell me about Sookie," she demanded.

"I'm afraid the news isn't good, Miss Broadway," the vampire began softly. He wanted to break the news to her gently; raging emotions would not be conducive to his game plan. "Please, have a seat," he motioned to the couch.

Amelia was too keyed up to even notice the fact that a more-or-less stranger was offering her a seat in her own home. She sat down heavily on the end of the couch. Her eyes, full of worry and dread, never left Victor's face.

Victor took a seat on the opposite end of the couch and turned sideways a little to face Amelia. Bad news was bad news, no matter how you sliced it. Wincing inwardly, Victor drew an unnecessary breath and said, gently as he knew how, "I'm afraid Miss Stackhouse has met an untimely end, Miss Broadway."

A frown creased Amelia's forehead for a split second before she fully comprehended Victor's words. "You mean...Sookie...is _dead?!_" Amelia shrieked. "What...how...I don't und..._OH SHIT, NO!_" Amelia's shrieks quickly turned to sobs as she fell apart on the end of the couch, tears flowing and shoulders heaving. Victor watched warily from the opposite end of the couch, visibly uncomfortable with her ultra-human emotional upheaval.

Several minutes passed before Amelia was able to collect herself and turn her attention back to Victor. She looked at him through watery eyes, sniffling loudly. "I'm really sorry," she half-sobbed. "Please forgive me. It's just that Sookie and I..." She let her words trail off, unable to voice the friendship she and Sookie had shared through the years.

Victor cleared his throat and began his story. "Yes, well...the exact details are still unknown, but from what we have pieced together..." Victor recounted the events of the past two nights: the call from Felicia and Clancy, his visit to Eric and Sookie's house, the letters he received from Michael Jamison...

Half an hour passed before Victor finished his tale. When he was done, a deathlike pallor had replaced the hysteria-induced ruddiness in Amelia's cheeks and her hands were visibly trembling.

"Let me make sure I have this right," Amelia choked out. "Eric supposedly made Sookie a vampire, and now she, Eric, and Pam are finally dead? I just don't get it...it doesn't make any sense." She shook her head as if that could erase the confusion that was growing there. "I haven't heard from her in a couple of weeks. Has anyone heard from Bill? And what about Sam? He and Sookie keep in touch. Maybe he knows something."

"No, I haven't been able to reach Compton," Victor replied. "I plan on stopping by his house later this evening to see if I can catch him, though. I also have a letter to deliver to Sam Merlotte. I assume he will be at the bar tonight."

"He will be, as far as I know," Amelia offered. "What kind of letter do you have for him?"

Victor leaned back into the arm of the couch and allowed his body to relax a little. He wasn't keen on the idea of sharing the intimate details of Eric's business with the Witch, but he felt he owed her a few details if he was going to ask for her help. "Northman's attorney delivered a packet to me that contained a few letters, and one of them was addressed to Mr. Merlotte. Since Northman was a loyal subject to the King, it is my duty to carry out any instructions he may have left in regard to his affairs."

"Oh, OK," Amelia mumbled. _Sookie was right – vamp shit was really screwed up._ "So, do you think you'll ever be able to figure out what really happened?"

Victor breathed a silent sigh of relief. The Witch had given him the perfect lead-in to sharing the true reason for his visit. "Now that you mention it, Miss Broadway, that is one of the reasons for my visit this evening. I...that is, we...King de Castro and I...are gravely concerned over the heinous nature of the attacks on Northman. We are anxious to find out who was behind the attacks and bring them to justice immediately. Wounds of this nature, if allowed to go unchecked, soon become a pox on the face of the kingdom. King de Castro would be most, ah...displeased...if that were to happen in this case."

Amelia listened as Victor continued his vamp-politic tap dance. "Um-hmm, I expect he would," she interjected, wondering what was coming next.

"So that we can get to the bottom of this incident, we were hoping you might entertain the idea of performing an ectoplasmic reconstruction of the events that night," Victor offered, looking hopefully towards Amelia. "I'm afraid it may be the only way we have of knowing exactly what happened."

Victor watched Amelia as she pretended to consider his request. "We are prepared to compensate you for your services, of course," he added curtly.

"Of course," Amelia echoed. She would perform the reconstruction for free, if she were able to accomplish the task alone, just to find out for sure what happened to Sookie. The fact that she could do it and get paid was simply a bonus as far as she was concerned.

After a moment's consideration, she continued. "I have performed reconstructions in the past, so I have experience with the process. A couple of my housemates have also done them, and I'm sure they will be happy to help. For a price."

"Of course, they would be compensated as well," Victor clipped, beginning to feel like the victim of an elaborate extortion plot.

Amelia shot Victor a smug smile. "Karen and Grace went to New Orleans for the holidays so they aren't here for me to ask them. I expect them back late tonight. But, for now I'll go out on a limb here and say 'yes' for all of us. When did you want to do this?"

"The sooner the better," Victor replied. "Would you be available tomorrow evening? Say, just after sundown?"

Amelia stood and nodded toward Victor. "That would be perfect. How about we meet you at their house in Shreveport at six o'clock?"

Victor rose and walked to the front door. "Six o'clock it is," he answered as he stepped through the front door. "Until tomorrow, Miss Broadway," he nodded to Amelia and walked swiftly down the steps to his car.

Amelia closed and locked the front door behind him. Leaning her back against the polished wood and sliding downward until she was sitting on the floor, she rested her forehead on her knees and cried.

*******************************************

Victor noticed only two cars and one pickup as he pulled into the parking lot of Sam Merlotte's bar. _At least the shifter shouldn't be too busy to talk_, he thought to himself. After parking his car toward the far edge of the lot by the woods, he strode purposefully toward the front door.

Victor paused to look around as he entered the building. _Shabby_ was the first thought to enter his mind. Then he silently chastised himself for his prudishness. Apparently it was a popular place with the humans, so the aesthetics of the bar were of no importance to him. Taking notice of the patrons, he saw two men sitting in a booth to his left, a pair of mugs and a frosty pitcher of beer on the table between them; a man and woman occupied another table to his right, both of them seated in the same side of the booth, shoulders touching, sharing a big basket of onion rings; a lone man in blue denim overalls and a dirty baseball cap was holding down a stool at the bar, a half glass of watered down, amber colored something-or-other in front of him.

The dark haired waitress behind the bar eyed Victor warily as he approached her. "Good evening," he said smoothly. "I am looking for Sam Merlotte."

"He's busy right now." Dark Hair clipped at Victor. She recognized Victor as a vamp the minute he stepped through the door. Having a bad experience with the undead in the past, he made her uneasy, and it showed in her voice, "Who are you?"

Though not one to surprise easily, Victor was a little taken aback by her overly direct demeanor. _'Insolent human,'_ he huffed to himself. "I am the vampire Victor Madden, second in command to King Felipe de Castro of Louisiana," he announced, certain the commanding tone of his voice would garner him the respect he demanded. "And you are..."

"On my way to the back to tell Sam he has a visitor," Dark Hair deadpanned as she turned on her heel and marched toward the back of the bar and out of sight.

A few short minutes later, Sam emerged and walked around to the front of the bar to greet Victor. Having been around vampires for years, instead of offering his hand he simply nodded a greeting toward Victor. "What can I do for you, Mr. Madden?" Sam's brow was furrowed and his mouth was set in a grim line. Ever since the night Bill Compton first set foot in his bar, vampires had done nothing but cause him grief, and he had no reason to think this one was any different.

Victor heaved a sigh as he was forced to repeat his business for the second time of the evening. "Mr. Merlotte, I come bearing news of Miss Stackhouse and Eric Northman," Victor began. "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

Sam eyed Victor warily. Though he had never met the vampire before, Sookie had shared her low opinion of him on many occasions. That, along with Sam's own gut feeling, told him to give Victor a wide berth.

"Come on back to my office," Sam answered as he led the way through the back hallway.

When they reached Sam's office, Sam sat in the chair behind his desk and offered Victor a chair opposite his. "What's this all about, Madden?" Sam began. _To hell with beating around the bush._

Victor looked at Sam coolly as he sat back in his chair. "I have no good news, Mr. Merlotte," Victor began. "Miss Stackhouse and The Northman are both finally dead."

Sam quickly picked up on the meaning of Victor's words. "What do you mean...both _finally_ dead?"

For the second time of the evening, Victor described the events surrounding Eric and Sookie's deaths. Sam sat quietly as Victor spoke; when he was finished, Victor noticed a single tear tracking down Sam's left cheek. _Damnable human emotions...even shifters weren't immune to them. _

Victor cleared his throat as he reached into the inside pocket of his suit coat. He retrieved Eric's letter and passed it across the desk to Sam. "While finalizing Northman's affairs, I was given this envelope," he explained.

Sam gave the envelope a dubious glance as he laid it to the side of his desk for later reading. Whatever it was Eric had to say to him, Sam didn't want it to be in Victor's presence.

"Is there anything else?" Sam asked Victor as he rose to his feet, more or less indicating to the vampire that his audience was finished. He was really in need of some alone time, and he wished to himself that Madden would just hurry the hell up and leave already.

Victor stood and turned toward the door. "I have consulted with the Witch, Miss Broadway. She will be performing an ectoplasmic reconstruction of the events surrounding Miss Stackouse and Northman's deaths tomorrow evening just after sunset." Pausing with his hand on the doorknob, Victor added, "You are welcome to attend, if you wish."

"Thanks, I'll think about it," Sam replied. He wasn't sure he was ready to witness Sookie's demise. That scene just might be more than he could bear.

"Yes, well, either way, I will contact you with the results," Victor said as he stepped through the door and closed it behind him.

Sam returned to the chair behind his desk and picked up the envelope from Eric. After turning it over in his hands several times, he retrieved a letter opener from the top drawer and opened the top. He took a deep breath to steady himself before reading.

_Merlotte,_

_This letter making its way to you means I have met my final death. To that_

_end, I would ask a favor of you, not for my sake, but for Sookie. I know how you _

_have always felt about her and, like me, only want what is best for her._

_Firstly, without my protection, I fear Sookie will be targeted by those who would wish to exploit her "gift." I ask that you convince her to leave Louisiana; take her somewhere she can disappear into the local scenery and start over. My death will leave her a wealthy woman, so she will have access to funds to make a new start for both of you. She will need protection, and you are the only one I would trust with this sacred duty._

_Secondly – and I ask this of you man to man – I want Bill Compton finally dead. I cannot command this of my underlings, for obvious reasons. Since you are not vampire, I have no authority over you; I can only ask this of you and hope you will comply. With me out of the picture, Compton is sure to try and make a play for Sookie's attentions. He has caused her irreparable emotional harm in the past and I do not wish for him to have the opportunity to inflict more in the future. His presence in her life would only further entangle her in vampire politics, and he is in no position to give her the protection she would require. Should you choose to honor my request, you will be rewarded handsomely. My attorney, Michael Jamison of Shreveport, is prepared to deposit five hundred thousand dollars in the account of your choosing once the task has been accomplished._

_How you choose to proceed is up to you. I will advise you that Compton does spend his days in his home. The building is old and, with his lesser status, he has no real need for fortification._

_Please take care of her, Sam. Sookie's happiness and well being are all I care about._

_Eric Northman_

When he was finished reading, Sam rested his elbows on the top of his desk and propped his head in his hands. He was on informational overload and his insides felt like a pit of writhing snakes. He rubbed his temples a few times to try and clear his head, then sat back and thought about the contents of Eric's letter. Obviously, the letter was written before Sookie was turned, and since she was gone the request to protect her was moot. Offing Compton, however, did sound like a most delicious prospect...

Even though it would be for different reasons than what Eric wanted, Sam knew instantly he would carry out Eric's wishes where Bill was concerned. He had hated the vamp ever since Sookie hooked up with him years ago. Sam had always felt that Bill introducing Sookie to the allure of the vampire world squelched any chance he might have had to have her for his own. Now, here was a chance for him to exact a little payback.

Sam sat back in his chair and began to formulate a plan. He knew he had to think fast, before the vampires had a chance to act. He didn't have time to grieve for Sookie now; that would come later. Right now he had bigger fish to fry.

A big shark...named Bill Compton.

****************************************************

Victor strode toward the front door, only breaking stride long enough to growl at Dark Hair on his way out. Childish, yes, but the human had irritated him with her insolence and he wanted to have the last word. He briefly entertained the thought of glamouring her, taking her out back, and having her for dinner, but he was on a mission and the clock was ticking.

Victor punched the gas as he sped out of the parking lot and turned onto Hummingbird Road. A few short minutes later he was turning into Bill Compton's driveway. As he pulled to a stop in front of Bill's house, he noticed Bill's car was absent from the driveway and there was no light coming from any of the windows. _'Looks like I missed him_,' Victor thought to himself. _'But while I'm here I may as well try...'_

He quickly made his way up the front steps and knocked on the front door. After a long minute with no answer he knocked again, this time more forcefully. Still no answer.

Spinning around and heading down the steps toward his car, Victor made a mental note to try Compton's phone one last time before sunrise. When he was once again secured behind the wheel of his sedan, Victor started back down the driveway toward Shreveport.

****************************************

The winter sky hung gray and heavy overhead as Sam collected the things he needed from the storage shed behind the bar. It was early morning so he had all the privacy he needed for the task. He mentally went over his supply list as he loaded up his truck: gas can – _check_; empty whiskey bottles – _check_; rags – _check_; shotgun (just in case) – _check_.

Confident that he was fully equipped, he climbed into the cab, motored through the parking lot of the bar, and turned onto Hummingbird Road toward the Compton house.

It was a short drive to Bill's house and Sam was relieved to not meet a single vehicle on the way. Bypassing Bill's driveway, Sam turned into the lane leading to the cemetery next to Bill's house. He pulled off the road and deep into the cemetery, turning around and parking in the cover of a big cedar tree so that his truck faced back toward the road.

Sam quietly slid out of the cab, walked to the back of the truck and lowered the tailgate. He quickly went to work building the Molotov cocktails, putting together several of them before stowing the supplies in the bed of the truck.

Curling his arm around several bottles and hugging them to his chest, Sam trotted through the cemetery and up the hill, hugging the tree line until he reached Bill's house. The Cadillac parked in the front yard made Sam feel reasonably sure Bill was somewhere inside the house, tucked away in his daytime death. _'Final death,'_ he said to himself while feeling a pang of guilt, but only for a flickering moment.

One by one, he lit the Molotovs and hurled them through the first floor windows as he made his way around the house. When his circle was complete, smoke was beginning to billow from the broken windows and he could see flames licking the inside walls.

Satisfied he had given the fire a good start, Sam quickly ran to the tree line and made his way back down the hill and through the cemetery. He jumped into his truck and hurried down the lane and back out onto Hummingbird Road toward home. Once again, he made the trek unseen, not another soul stirring in the cold December morning.

_Mission accomplished. _

***********************************************

It was six o'clock on the dot when Amelia pulled her car into the Northman driveway. Victor, who was waiting for her at the front door, was impressed by her punctuality. She parked the car and approached the house with her two housemates and fellow witches, Karen and Grace.

After making the requisite introductions, Victor ushered the group through the house and into the den where Clancy waited for them with Sandy Sechrest, King de Castro's assistant. Amelia was glad all traces of the dead vampires had been removed. She had had nightmares the night before about an ashy Sookie rising from the floor and chasing her through the house.

Without preamble, Victor turned to the witches and said, "You may begin whenever you wish."

"Fine," Amelia answered back. She pulled Karen and Grace to the side and spoke quietly to them for a few moments. The little witch group then turned toward the vampires. "We're ready," Amelia announced, and then added, "We must have complete silence."

The witches spread out through the room and, on Amelia's cue, closed their eyes and began to chant. Their sing-songy rhythm droned on for several minutes but no images appeared.

Just when Victor was beginning to believe he had made a grievous error in soliciting the witches' help, three translucent figures appeared in the middle of the room. The entire group watched in horror and the witches continued their chanting as Filmy Bill battled Filmy Eric, with Filmy Sookie, who was now obviously a vampire, looking on.

Sandy let out an audible gasp when Filmy Sookie stepped too close to Filmy Bill's arcing sword. Amelia choked back a sob but continued her chanting as she watched the replay of her best friend being struck down by her former boyfriend.

Everyone in the crowd, especially the vampires, recoiled at the sight of Filmy Eric plunging the gnarled wooden stake into his own chest and collapsing beside Filmy Sookie. At that point, Amelia was too distraught to continue, so the witches stopped their chanting.

Karen and Grace ran to Amelia, who had collapsed onto the floor in a sobbing heap. The vampires looked at each other and it was only with great effort that Sandy kept herself from rolling her eyes at Amelia's emotional outburst. "Well, I guess that explains what happened," she remarked, then added "Funny, I would have never pegged Sookie for wanting to become vampire."

Shrugging her shoulders, she turned to Victor. "I believe we can assume, from what we learned here, that Compton was also responsible for attacking Pam in the garage."

"I believe you are correct," Victor replied. "I don't see any need to reconstruct those events, do you?"

"No, I don't believe that will be necessary," Sandy remarked. Turning to the witches, she voiced their dismissal. "You are free to go now. King de Castro appreciates the service you have done for him here this evening. His Majesty has instructed me to compensate you for your services. I will be in touch with you soon to settle up." She then nodded to Amelia, indicating that was their cue to return to Bon Temps.

Once the witches were gone, Sandy turned her attention back to Victor and Clancy. "I believe the next order of business is to return to Bon Temps and arrest Bill Compton for the murders of Pamela Ravenscroft, Sookie Stackhouse, and Eric Northman." She looked pointedly at Victor and Clancy. "I trust you two can take care of that?"

"I believe we can handle that," Victor assured her, looking over Sandy's head to Clancy, who echoed Victor's confidence with a nod.

"Fine. I will return to the hotel and report tonight's findings to Felipe. I'm sure he will want me to arrange for the tribunal as soon as possible." Sandy gave a curt not to Victor and Clancy and headed toward the door. "Call me when you have Compton in custody."

Victor closed up the house and he and Clancy climbed in the sedan for yet another trip to Bon Temps. Neither vampire spoke during the trip, but words weren't really necessary. They both knew they had a job to do.

When they reached the exit for Bon Temps, Victor turned south and headed toward town. As they drove down Hummingbird Road, they could see a faint red glow through the trees as they neared the Compton house. Neither vampire was prepared for the sight that greeted them at the end of the driveway.

Bill's car was still parked on the gravel drive, but the old two-story manor house was gone, replaced by a huge pile of smoldering ashes. Four smoke-stained chimneys stood sentinel at the edges of the wreckage, along with a few charred timbers strewn through the remains like matchsticks dropped on a tabletop.

The vampires exited the car and slowly walked to the smoldering pile of debris. Tendrils of smoke curled up from the rubble and wafted skyward; from under the ruins, clusters of glowing embers winked out at the dark night. And from the midst of the debris, shockingly evident to their keen undead noses, floated the unmistakable stench of charred vampire flesh.

"Holy shit," Clancy swore under his breath.

"Holy shit, indeed," Victor agreed as he picked up his cell phone and dialed Sandy's number. "You need to get to Bon Temps right away," he ordered Sandy when she answered the line. "I don't think we're going to have need for a tribunal."

_P.S -- Please send some review crack my way -- I'm jonesing for a fix!!! _


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